


This Disgusting, Beautiful Human

by PumpkinPie59



Series: My romance oneshots [2]
Category: Tokyo Mew Mew
Genre: F/M, Forbidden Love, crack ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 10:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10875066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinPie59/pseuds/PumpkinPie59
Summary: Moe comes across an alien while on a camping trip.





	This Disgusting, Beautiful Human

**Author's Note:**

> So, um, this is a completely random story about a crack couple that I may or may not actually take seriously. So, err, enjoy?

I knew I shouldn't have done this: sneaking into a mysterious forest at night. The other girls might worry. Perhaps I should turn back. After all, what I saw may have only been my imagination.

I start to turn on my heel, but the same bright blue light I had seen earlier flashes again. I turn back to the source. Something within me is pulling me to it. My conscious? Maybe. A spiritual awakening? Doubtful. Curiosity? Most likely.

Even so, I make my way toward the origin of the strange light. All I can focus on is whatever it was. I can't seem to hear the crunch of leaves beneath my feet, my beating heart, or my heavy breathing.

Soon, I reach a lake. Not too far from the shore is a man: tall and not bad-looking, I admit. He is a little odd, though. He is wearing a long blue jacket, his raven hair is really long, and he has very long, large, and pointy ears. I suddenly forget how to breath.

An alien.

I decide to turn around as quickly as I can. I try to run, but, due to the darkness, I trip on a root sticking out from the ground. I fall to the ground with a loud crunch.

Everything goes silent. I shakily breathe, hoping he does not hear me. Does he?

I am so clumsy! Why couldn't I have had awesome reflexes like Ichigo?! I squint my eyes closed as I rant in my mind.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps. I hold my breath in fear. The footsteps stop.

"What are you doing, Human?" The voice is calm, but not cold. Curious, but not angry. Why? Weren't aliens the bad guys?

My mind is racing a mile a minute. What should I say?

"I ... I saw something. I am so sorry for intruding," I stutter slowly. I don't dare look at him.

"You are not intruding," The alien speaks. "And would you look at me while you talk?"

I slowly sit up and turn around, slightly terrified. I clear my throat. "Sorry."

"What is your name?" He asks.

I, still not looking at him, reply, "Yanagida Moe."

"Moe ..." He murmurs, as if tasting my name. "Unique."

"Um ... thank you," I slowly look up at him. I feel my cheeks heat up.

He is pale, deathly so. His eyebrows are furrowed in curiosity. His eyes are ice blue, but so deep. I think I am lost in them.

"Wha—What is yours?" I whisper. I inwardly smack myself. What am I doing? I shouldn't be mingling with an alien!

"My name is Deep Blue, True King of the Pastrites," He bellows. It sends shivers down my back, but, for some odd, unexplainable reason, I feel my cheeks burn.

"F—fascinating ..." I shakily speak. I am not usually this shy, but something about this ... this alien ... is making me this way. Why? What is wrong with me?

"Stand up," He says. I obey nervously.

"Why are you here?"

I gulp my nervousness down as much as I can before I speak, "I ... I saw a light. I followed it, and I ... uh ... I found you."

He blinks in response.

"I’m sorry," I finish.

"You should not be out here alone."

I look at him in surprise. Why would he care?

"Yanagida-san ... Stand still."

I freeze. The tall alien walks toward me, and grabs my arm with his left hand. With his right, he pushes some of my blonde-colored bangs away from my eyes. I am pretty sure I am twice as red as I was previously.

Slowly, he brings his lips toward mine. I feel as if I have no choice but to comply to his actions and close my eyes. As soon as the space between us closes, I calm down.

Suddenly, I start to feel weak. My legs collapse beneath me, and I start to fall. Darkness clouds my brain, and my eyes lose their vision. Everything goes to rest.

\----

The young girl parts from my lips as she starts to fall asleep. As she collapses, I catch her and pick her up, letting her rest her head on my shoulder.

This girl is special, I decide. If there were a reason to let Earth stay the way it is, it would be her. However, I know I cannot quit the mission I was given the day I was born, all those years ago.

Then again, something about this new body I am living in—Akai Mashio's, I believe—is giving me a new perspective. This girl is changing me, as well. Somehow.

The girl—Moe—stirs in her sleep as I hold her. I feel a gentle smile start to come on my face. That is a feeling I have not had in centuries. Despite that, I let it come.

I find a camp, quiet and gentle. Two other girls are there: a dark-haired girl, and a red-haired girl. I snarl in disgust as I realize who the second is: Momomiya Ichigo—Mew Strawberry.

Still, I let her presence slide as I lay Moe down on the third sleeping bag. She was beautiful in her slumber. So peaceful.

However, my mission comes back to mind. I materialize my sword into my hand, and raise it above my head, ready to strike. I try to let my hatred and disgust for humanity come back to my heart, mind, and soul.

But it will not come.

I sigh and lower my sword. The girl—no, woman—has opened something in my heart, something that I have not reached in centuries. No, I will not kill her now. But, when the time comes, when the Earth must be destroyed, she will die, along with the rest of mankind, because, no matter how pure this innocent Moe is, she is still a pathetic human, and she must be annihilated.

But, until then, this disgusting, beautiful human will be loved.

I turn around, and start to leave the camp, also leaving Moe behind, sealing her memory of our meeting away and out of her reach.

Farewell, Yanagida Moe. Live peacefully until your death, without me.

Goodbye.


End file.
